


what is bred into bone will emerge in the flesh

by waspfactor



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Arson, Canonical Child Abuse, Character Death, Character Study, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Revenge, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28660701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waspfactor/pseuds/waspfactor
Summary: but gakushuu asano is a sensible boy, in his own right. if he goes to police, he’ll receive justice. he doesn’t want justice.he wants revenge.
Relationships: Asano Gakuhou & Asano Gakushuu
Comments: 17
Kudos: 107





	what is bred into bone will emerge in the flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fuel for the Funeral Pyre](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194186) by [MoominQuartz (IceCreAMS)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/MoominQuartz). 



> HEY HEY HEY!
> 
> i read an AMAZING aa4 fic which inspired me with this! (u dont have to read that fic to read this! its just that inspired the tone set in this and hey i think its a pretty neato fic) 
> 
> returning to my roots with the character study, hurt no comfort, gakushuu fic hell yeah. speaking of, gakushuu is a. Yeah. in this. like he is. Yeah he's a something. He's very angsty and very angry and also murderous. ON GOD BRO U GONNA GET HELP. JUST NOT IN THIS FIC.
> 
> [you already know what time it is](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCrB5200thI)

Gakushuu Asano decides, at the age of eight, that he hates his father. Too many a night he has spent in quite silence, sobbing his heart out while his cheeks _stings,_ to love him _._ He has had his chance and he has ruined it. Gakushuu has had enough. 

A few weeks after he decides he hates his father, a revelation that somehow comforts him, Gakushuu purposely gets 95% in his English essay. It’s a very good score but it is not perfect and Gakuhou Asano expects perfection.

The small flame of rebellion is smothered, overshadowed by the punishment he receives for it. Through the wincing and the shadows dancing in front of him, Gakushuu manages to open a notebook and shakily writes down everything he feels at the current moment. The ache in his jaw, the marks on his legs, the way he feels like he’s being possessed. He notes it all, like a doctor would.

It serves as a reminder.

Over time the book becomes full, full of every little thing Gakuhou Asano has ever done to him, pages filled from top to bottom of doctor’s notes and sketches and diagrams of injuries. Gakushuu reads it back to front, memorises it off by heart as if he’s being tested on it, translates it into English and Korean and Italian and French and Braille as well. It’s damning evidence, he knows. Not even an eel such as his father could get away with this and perhaps, if Gakushuu were not so tainted by spite and varying hues of inky purple, he’d be a sensible boy and turn this into the police, speak to _somebody, anybody._

But Gakushuu Asano is a sensible boy, in his own right. If he goes to police, he’ll receive justice. He doesn’t want justice.

Justice is for the misaligned and misguided, for those who keep their rose-tinted blindfolds on, in fear of what the _real_ world holds. Justice is nothing but a bedtime story that incompetent parents tell their bratty children in an attempt to get them to sleep and the only ones above the age of five naïve enough to believe in justice should have their teeth pulled out one by one. Gakushuu wants justice in the same way worms want owls to eat them.

He doesn’t want justice. He wants revenge.

At age nine, he vows to himself that he ( _and only he_ ) will be Gakuhou Asano’s final undoing. He shall be the final nail in the coffin, the ace up the sleeve, the snake that pretends to slumber beneath the spiderlily. He is going to make Gakuhou Asano dance one last dance, twitter out one more pathetic song and _then_ , Gakushuu will kick the chair out from underneath the other and Gakushuu Asano will take great pleasure in watching his father’s face go hazy blue and his body lifeless, swaying softly from side to side like a pendulum.

There are a few factors that must be considered first though.

Gakuhou Asano, for all his faults, is a very intelligent man. His eyes are akin to a sniper’s scope and like a shark to blood, he’ll devour you whole if he smells weakness. It is simple to impossible to expect Gakuhou Asano to lead himself into his own destruction, for he is too wise. He is his own canary in his own coal mine.

That is no matter. Canaries only live for ten years or so. Gakushuu doesn’t mind playing the long game.

Rage. Admittedly, it’s the only thing that keeps him going. It’s a dam to his sorrowful tears, to most of his emotions. It helps his focus, helps him concentrate on the matter at hand. It’s an all-consuming fire and sometimes, if Gakushuu _really_ tries, he can spot the smoke, crinkling his view. It burns brighter than his father’s shitty lighter and its combustion is hotter than whatever his father’s running on nowadays.

When he’s eleven, his father expects him to become an even shinier marionette, one that is its own master. He asks Gakushuu to call him ‘Principal’ or, better yet, ‘Director’.

“You’ll be a fish out of water,” He comments smoothly, as if it isn’t a well disguised dig at his own child. “I’d simply hate for you to be unprepared.” Fake, fake, fake. It’s all fake. Gakushuu isn’t even sure the other knows what he’s even speaking about.

It’s funny. Gakushuu won’t laugh, doesn’t really know how to, but it’s funny. Father wants _him_ to be his own undoing, anticipating Gakushuu will off himself, given enough time (and, ah, wouldn’t that solve all of Gakuhou Asano’s problems?). Something, something, great minds think alike, whatever. Gakushuu does not rise to the bait dangling in front of him and instead, nods mechanically. If his reply is more bitter than usual, neither mention it.

They say you should always listen to your gut. When the moon explodes, one day in March, Gakushuu takes it as an omen. His father doesn’t seem too intrigued as if he holds some cards in the poker game of ‘what happened to the moon’.

_Let the man play his game_ , Gakushuu dismisses mentally. Where he’s going (or rather, where Gakushuu intends of sending him), there won’t be any time for such games.

The next academic year rolls around but something has changed. Father’s sitting on a secret, one that’s enough to ruin him if it comes out. That much is obvious. His smiles are even more forced than his past ones and he’s wound _tight._ Surface tension high. Elastic waiting to _snap_.

It’s like all those years ago, when the man locked himself in his house and screamed his voice out in pain and agony and when his eyes with rimmed with red and tears. Gakushuu was confused back then, too scared and too young still to appreciate a man going mad. However, the years have not been kind to Gakushuu Asano, nothing has been. While his third year of junior high has its ups and downs (mostly it’s downs), it is made only slightly better by watching his father tie his own noose as he walks the finest line imaginable.

Gakushuu does not give a single _fuck_ about what ever… _creature_ those degenerates in E Class are hiding. But his father, _oh_ , his father. Father does care. He cares so much that he’s starting to get caught up in his lies, a spider forgetting where it has spun its web. When Gakushuu casually mentions that he isn’t an idiot, that he _knows_ of _something,_ Gakuhou Asano almost chokes on air. Gakushuu smiles inwardly.

A fish out of water indeed.

An amendment to a previous statement- Gakushuu _does_ care about whatever those freaks in E Class are sheltering because _whatever_ it is, it’s making his father paranoid. They’re making him _stressed._ He starts changing lecture notes on a whim, starts teaching some lessons himself (how disgustingly thoughtful). It eventually gets to the point where he doesn’t even pretend to sleep anymore, stays up all night running sickly looking hands through his thinning hair (and he had the gall to call Gakushuu balding).

While it’s fun to watch someone literally rot in front of you, to observe as their mental and physical state collapse in on themselves, that’s the easy way out of all this and Gakuhou Asano deserves anything but easy.

After the pole toppling, after the dust settles, after the murderous haze lifts, Gakushuu’s left swallowing in shallow breaths. He feels as if he’s been buried alive and his father’s face shifts, a sea of eyes and teeth and it’s all grin, despite having no mouth. Its traumatic (that’s an image no amount of therapy will ever burn away) but it’s also invigorating, lighting a fire under Gakushuu, a sort of fuel he hasn’t felt in _years._

Father might not have realised it, too caught up in the euphoria that follows after you brutally assault several teenagers, but the paramedics being called to Kunugigoaka, the still visible blood on _his_ suit and Gakushuu’s trouser leg, the hushed whispers of his classmates- it’s all slowly uncoiling his meticulous little puzzle, the great paradoxical enigma that is Kunugigoaka. A castle and it’s tyrannical king shall be slain with the same blade, that much is certain.

Speaking of, what does it take to make a man like Gakuhou Asano to snap? What exactly _is_ his final straw? The death of his parents? The death of his wife? The passing of his most beloved student?

No.

All it takes is losing three points in an exam. Three measly marks.

Gakushuu’s backhanded before he knows it but there is no pain this time, despite how awkwardly his body hits against the wall. He ragdolls slightly and there’s definitely _something_ bleeding, given the way iron coats his mouth.

Gakushuu doesn’t know how to laugh but even still, he tries his best. It comes out more like a hyena’s howl. Father’s face says a thousand words and Gakushuu so very wishes he could take a photo. He wants this _framed,_ wants this moment etched into his head forever.

The quivering of his hand and the look on his face and the look on everyone else’s face. It’s all too perfect.

“What’s wrong _, father,_ ” He spits, red clumping together as he uses the word ‘father’. “Your face is glitching out. You look like a fish out of water.”

The sharp inhale of air lets Gakushuu know that his arrow has hit the mark. _Bingo._

On the way home from school that day, which is mostly spent holding an icepack to his face, he gets a phone call from Akabane. Akabane’s the new number one, the new centre jewel in his father’s crown. Gakushuu doesn’t so much resent Akabane but there is _something_ there _._ He’s the best of the worst but that still makes him the worst.

“Hello?” He answers, keeping his voice even.

“The principal’s up by our classroom.”

Gakushuu fails to see how that alone merits in a phone call. “So?”

“He, uh,” There’s a shuffling on the other end, a hush sounds out. “Tried to kill himself.” He whispers, almost like he’s afraid of speaking it into existence.

_Tried._ It rings in Gakushuu’s head like a gunshot. “So. He didn’t succeed?”

“No.”

“Good,” Gakushuu says but it’s not in relief, not in the way Akabane probably thinks it’s in. “Can you pass on a message?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Tell him I’ll see him at home.” And he hangs up on Akabane before the other can ask anything else.

When Gakuhou Asano gets home, he _looks_ like he’s tried to kill himself. He doesn’t exactly limp, but years of perpetual exhaustion have finally caught up and his body sags and his joints audibly click when he walks. There’s something in his eyes, a glint that Gakushuu hasn’t seen in many, many years.

It’s regret.

Gakushuu can’t help but scowl.

How pitiful.

“You tried to kill yourself.” And it’s meant as a question and as an insult. Carrot and stick. Salt and wound.

Father swallows thickly. “You were told.”

Gakushuu gives a small shrug, bathing in the air of nonchalance. “The walls have eyes, Principal. I have my ways.” And really, even if Akabane hadn’t informed him, he would’ve had to eventually find out.

One of the first lessons he learned (the hard way, of course) was that a blow to one’s ego is not about force or location; it’s all in the _timing._ A quick strike while a foe looks the other way is all you need. This is almost Gakuhou Asano’s rock bottom, making it prime time for an attack.

He gets up from the couch, turning off the news he was mindlessly listening to. “I am glad you were stopped,” It’s a half-truth but truths come in full or not at all. So, really, it’s a lie. But it’s also a truth. Maybe it’s both. “E Class have enough on their hands.”

There’s more words he doesn’t say, words that don’t sound out- _Why should they scrub your brains off the wall. Why should they?_ And then, _that classroom is a beacon of death. Perhaps it should be demolished._

Gakuhou tilts his head downwards, his mind shifting through a conversation he wants to have. It’s not one Gakushuu wants to listen to. It’s too late for that.

“Asano-” His father starts.

“Principal,” Gakushuu nods curtly, cutting him off. “If I can be excused, I have work to finish.” And it’s so professional, so detached from what is considered normal to say in _this_ sort of conversation, that it delivers another blow to the already wounded Gakuhou Asano.

_You raised me this way. Now, you will reap the benefits._

It takes some consideration over whether the final act should occur before or after graduation. On one hand, a part of Gakushuu doesn’t want to soak his classmate’s graduation in the murky misery that is the Asano’s but on the other hand, Gakushuu has never cared for those idiots.

Enthalpy of combustion is met with a match and a generous portion of kerosene. The Asano household fire will serve as a warning, a message, a reminder. This is what happens when you raise a child like _that._ Play with fire, expect a funeral pyre, expect everything you have ever known to go up in smoke.

Gakushuu has to pretend to come out of the building, holds his hand above a flame for too long so that it scar, an alibi, his golden ticket of his own proof. He calls out to his father, worry laced in his tone. It’s all an act but this is Gakushuu’s final performance in such a role and he’s going to make sure this play is encore worthy.

Gakuhou Asano eventually appears, the glow of the fire lighting him flatteringly, despite everything else. He’s unscathed, albeit, coughing up a lung and a half. He’s obviously alarmed, eyes wide with panic. He really is running on fear at this point, too scared to notice that Gakushuu stinks of gasoline.

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow as he draws his bow, aims his leg to kick. This is the final act, the final time he’ll see his father. He takes a deep breath in and drinks it in.

“His basketball,” He pretends to choke out. “It’s still in there.”

And, like a dog chasing a frisbee, like a mindless ant following the predetermined route set out for it, like the fool Gakushuu has always had him pegged as, Gakuhou Asano runs back into the inferno. The chair is kicked out from underneath his feet; he has tied his own noose, decided his own fate. Well. He was led to believe that he decided his own fate (choice is but an illusion in the end).

Gakuhou Asano does not emerge from the flames. The house falls in on itself like a stack of cards.

And, hey, if the fire service notice the scent of kerosene on Gakushuu’s hand or how all exits were seemingly locked, they don’t mention it.

Nobody does.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://wasp-factor.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/waspfactor) :))
> 
> gakuhou asano drop ya location


End file.
